Jacob led me off the barrel, his fingers holding mine a fraction longer than necessary. Over his shoulder, I spotted Kite on the stairs. He was staring at me—at us—and guilt washed into me like cold water.
What the hell was I doing thinking about Jacob? Maybe Kite and I weren't officially dating, but we'd already kissed and fucked—twice! I'd seen enough soap operas to know how this was going to go.
Unless I wanted to see these two men fight, I had to settle on one of them.
Or neither, I thought bitterly. Stop flirting with murderers!
“Come on,” Kite said cheerfully, not betraying any of the dark curiosity that had been burning in his eyes. “Bring her up and show her.”
Turning, Jacob adjusted his silver vest and rich, emerald green tie. “He's right. Let's go, Marina.”
When they looked away, I rubbed my cheeks furiously and shook my arms out. I needed to expel this ridiculous hunger from my body. I followed them up the steps, breaking into the main bar area.
Kite and Jacob stood at a far away table. They were hunched together, whispering. It hit me, then, what the news might be. “Did you find him?” I blurted, rushing over.
Jacob handed me a large envelope. “Look at that, and you can tell us.”
Fuck, I was shivering. I struggled with the package, gripping the sheet of paper inside and sliding it into the light. I didn't know if I was going to vomit, or cheer, or just start laughing insanely.
The black and white photo was old, but the print was recent; crisp and unmarked. It contained a blurry face, but I didn't need detail. One look at those eyes, and I knew. Even with a filling replacing his once upon a time gap-tooth, I fucking knew.
I crushed down on the paper and tore the edges. “Tell me where he is.”
“I take that to mean it's the man we want,” Jacob said calmly.
I shot my glare at him, knew I was speaking too fast—too anxiously. “Where is he, Jacob? Tell me where he is and what the hell his name is.” It was him. It was really him.
I held the mugshot of my long lost monster.
“Take a breath and chill out,” Kite said. He reached for me, tried to grab my shoulders soothingly.
I shoved him away, lips pulling back over my snarling teeth. “No! If you got this photo, you must know his name! That's what I paid you for, right? Do your part and tell me!”
In my mind, all I could see were her eyes. Wet, wide eyes that fixed on me and saw me. A little girl who realized I couldn't save her. How could I have? I was six years old, what was I going to do?
But she'd watched me. Cece had known I was in that closet.
And she'd known I was a coward.
I'd let her die.
“Shit!” Kite hissed, gripping me under my arms when I fell. I didn't remember falling, but the edges of my vision were a black sinkhole.
He was warm against me, my cheek on his bare shoulder until he settled me into the booth. Someone went to take the photo from my fingers; I dug in, a death grip. They stopped trying.
“Breathe,” Jacob instructed. He bent over me, his familiar scent filling my head. I was dizzy, though the humiliation of nearly fainting grounded me.
Sitting up, I put the photo between my knees so I could grab the glass of water Kite handed me. I wasn't giving the picture up. It was the closest thing to proof—physical proof—that my memory of that murderer was real.
The two men sat across from me, their eyes wary and unsure. Wiping my mouth, I put the glass on the table as steadily as possible. It still trembled, which I hated. “I'm fine. Stop looking at me like that.”
“You nearly fainted, you're not fine,” Jacob said.
My attention swayed to him, sticking on his subtle frown like glue. I wanted to watch him for a reaction. “Of course I nearly fainted. You found the man I'm after. Tell me who he is, Jacob.”
His inhale made his shirt ripple upwards. His composure was infuriating. “I only have the photo. I don't know his name.”
I thought I was going to pass out again. I reached for the glass, stopped when I saw how my arm vibrated. I didn't want them to see me so unstable. “How?” I asked. “How could you get a photo and not his name?”
He said, “I met with a man who had heard of your murderer. He knew about Frankie and the insurance bullying.” Jacob sat next to me, his arm on the cushion over my head. “All he could give me was a printed photo, but trust me, Marina... with this, we can find out who he is.”
Looking him in the eye, I tried to see into his head. Was he lying? I couldn't say. “It took four days to get this photo?” I asked cautiously.
Jacob didn't move a muscle. “Yes.”
Glancing at Kite, I spotted how he was standing there with his hands deep in his pockets. He looked at me, forced a small smile. I swear, they knew something I didn't.
Finally able to drink the water without spilling it, I took a big swallow. I drank until it was nearly empty, breathing out in a rush. “Thank you for finding his picture, Jacob. I mean that. You must have gone through a lot to get this. Four days is a long time.”